Should've Said Sorry
by Ambur
Summary: Jim smiled his funny little smile and took a step forward. "I asked you a question Molly? Did you miss me?" He took another step and stopped. The smile fell from his face. "DID YOU?" He screamed.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is the story of what happens when you don't say your sorry to loved ones...**

* * *

"Miss me?" Jim asked as he stared her down from across the lab.

Molly found her throat constrict and tighten. She could not even draw enough breath to make a sound.

Jim smiled his funny little smile and took a step forward. "I asked you a question Molly? Did you miss me?" He took another step and stopped. The smile fell from his face. "DID YOU?" He screamed.

It was enough to startle Molly into action and she turned and ran just as he lunged for her. As she ran, her survivalist instinct kicked in. She shoved medical trays and glass bottles onto the floor as she passed them making enough noise to wake the dead. She also began screaming as she ran, shoving the doors to the lab open and sprinting down the hall. He was right behind her laughing his maniacal laugh. Several hospital staff ran into the hallway within moments trying to see what was happening.

When Molly saw the gathered group, she ran full speed towards them and didn't look back until she reached them.

"Oh my God…Molly what's wrong?" Malinda asked her.

"It's Jim…oh God…its Jim…he's back." Molly said as she clutched at Malinda's jacket. "He's behind me and…" Her words caught in her throat when she turned back and saw he was gone. "He was right there…he was in the lab with me…"

"Who?" Malinda asked worriedly.

"Jim Moriarty." Molly cried.

A technician bolted into the hallway from one of the hospital rooms. "Guys did you hear…on the telly…James Moriarty is back. Not only is Sherlock Holmes alive, but his arch enemy is as well." He said with a stupid smile on his face that showed he truly had no concept of who and what James Moriarty was.

"How is this possible?" Molly asked staring up at Malinda. "He shot himself…Sherlock said…Jim shot himself!"

* * *

Greg looked around the ruined lab. "Good God what a mess. You did the right thing Molly. Quick thinking!" He praised her as he rubbed her back trying to comfort her naturally wrecked nerves. "Are you alright?"

She nodded her head. "Yes, it was just such a shock to see him…and the way he was looking at me…like he was looking right through me…" She shuddered.

"Look Molls, maybe I should get someone to drive you home. All of our heads are spinning now that we know he's back and…" he looked at her intently. "You _are _sure it was him?"

"Yes Greg! I would know his voice anywhere and his eyes…" She shuddered again. "And that creepy little smile he always has on his face…it was Jim Moriarty. I know it was him Greg."

He nodded. "Okay Molly, then I definitely must insist that you let one of my officer's drive you home. I'll post a few men around your building also."

She nodded, holding her arms tightly around herself. "Why do you think he came to me Greg?"

Greg shook his head. "I dunno Molls. Who can say with a nutter like him? But we will protect you. I'll put men on you 24 hrs a day if I have too, but we will keep you safe."

"It won't be enough." A deep baritone voice said coming into the ruined lab. Sherlock walked over to Greg and Molly, but kept his attention on Molly. "It won't be enough Lestrade and you know it. Not with Moriarty."

"Well it the best that I can do right at this moment Sherlock." Greg said. "Whenever you're ready Molly, I'll have someone drive you home."

"Thanks Greg, I appreciate that."

"Why didn't you call me?" Sherlock asked looking pointedly at Molly.

"I did call you Sherlock." Greg said rolling his eyes.

"Not you Lestrade." Sherlock said turning his body completely toward hers. "Why didn't _YOU_ call me?"

"Why should I call you?" She replied in a hard voice. "I'm ready Greg."

She pushed passed Sherlock. "Oh hello John." She said cheerfully. "I didn't see you there."

"Are you okay Molly?" John asked worriedly.

She nodded. "Yes, just a bit shocked…I …he…I mean I looked up and there he was, no more than six feet away from me." She shuddered again. "But I'm alright."

John pulled her into a hug. "Well we are here for you of course, if you need anything."

"Yes thank you John. Give my love to Mary." She said pulling away and walking from the lab. Sherlock watched her go with narrowed eyes.

"Have I done something wrong John?" He asked.

"What's that?" John asked looking at Sherlock and following his eyes towards the retreating Molly. "Oh that. Yes, well, I'm not sure how you expected her to act after your last meeting."

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh you know. You were high as a kite and she slapped you three times, which was bloody brilliant by the way. And then you proceeded to point out that her engagement was over instead of saying you were sorry for hurting her and your other friends with your destructive behavior…so I think that about sums it up. Yes Sherlock, you did do something wrong, very wrong in fact."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sherlock snapped. "She's in danger. I should be the one she calls. She can't possibly think that this lot could protect her from Moriarty."

"I heard that." Greg snapped from across the room. "Besides why should he want to hurt Molly? He probably just did this to make a grand entrance. He's like you in that way…all about the drama."

Sherlock turned around and stared at Lestrade. "Why should he want to hurt Molly? Is that supposed to be a serious question?" He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course he would want to hurt Molly. She played a key part; in fact, she had the starring role in keeping me alive in case you have forgotten. He will try to use her to get to me."

"Oh I forgot this is all about you." Greg said rolling his eyes. "Why should he use Molly to try to get to you? It would seem to me that he would try to use someone that was actually important to you if he were going to do that."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, the door to the lab burst open and a constable ran in. "Sir…she's gone."

Greg stood to his full height. "Who is gone?"

"Dr. Hooper sir. We were pulling the car around for her and when we got to where we had left her, she was gone." He said.

"Why the bloody hell did you morons leave her alone?" Greg shouted. "Am I surrounded by idiots?"

"Yes you are. A bit taxing isn't it?" Sherlock asked as he turned and ran from the lab. John followed after him.

Once outside Sherlock and John looked frantically around the parking lot. "He would've left something for me John."

"Who, Moriarty?"

"Of course Moriarty!" Sherlock snapped. "He wouldn't have just taken her and left nothing. He would have to gloat. Look for anything…a piece of paper, something left on the concrete, anything."

John had just started to search when he heard a chirping sound. He pulled his mobile from his jacket pocket. Sherlock stared at him while John looked at the mobile. "It's not me Sherlock."

Sherlock slowly pulled his mobile from his jacket and looked at it.

_You should've said sorry Sherlock…Boo hoo…now you will never get the chance to…_

Sherlock swallowed hard and looked at John when his mobile chirped again. He looked down to read the second message.

_Did you miss me? I certainly missed you and our little games. And this is going to be a game Sherlock, one of our fun little games…let's hope it ends well for little Molly shall we…_

* * *

**Thoughts?**

**I do hope it peeked your interest! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all: WOW and thank you to all of the follows! I was plesantly surprised at how many were interested in this one. I appreciate it so much! I also want to thank everyone who reviewed, Adi who is also Mou (love hearing from you as you are an amzing writer), Ballykissangel, Freeway girl, 4May, Dodge1989, Cyprus1967, AdaYuki, Empress of Verace(you are so sweet), Reina434, LadyK1138, and Rocking the Redhead. You guys are awesome and wonderful and uplifting!**

**Rocking the Redhead: Am I going to break your heart with this one...hmmmm...you never know with me do you?**

**Here's the next chapter...enjoy!**

* * *

Sherlock stared at his mobile with his heart in his throat. John touched his arm. "What do we do? Sherlock?"

Sherlock turned to look at John with a tormented expression. He opened his mouth, but before he spoke, a female voice behind him did.

"Bollocks!" Molly snapped looking in her purse. "I guess I'll have to go back inside…again."

"Molly!" John and Sherlock cried together. She jumped startled and stared at them with wide eyes.

"What?" She asked. "Has something happened?"

"We thought Moriarty took you." John said rushing to her and hugging her tightly.

"What? Why?" She managed to squeak out as John was crushing the air from her lungs in his embrace.

John released her and stepped back. "Lestrade's man came in and said you were gone…that when they pulled the car around, you had disappeared."

"Oh that." She grinned sheepishly. "I had to pop back into the morgue. I forgot my mobile. Now I have to go back in for my keys." She looked down and sighed. "I guess seeing Jim has made me a bit of a wreck."

"There's no need for you to worry now Molly, we are here to protect you." Sherlock said looking at her.

She looked back at him and frowned. "I'll just go and get my keys and then _GREG_ will take me home. See you later John and again, my love to Mary." She turned on her heals and started back inside.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed and he took a step to go after her, but John grabbed his arm. "Leave her alone Sherlock. She'll talk to you when she's ready."

"She'll talk to me now." Sherlock snapped and jerked away from John.

John watched him walk into Bart's after Molly. "Oh yea, this is going to go great." He shook his head and charged in after him.

"Sherlock wait…what about those texts you got from Moriarty…what do they mean? If he didn't take her, why did he send them?" John asked running down the hospital corridor to catch up to Sherlock.

"It's a game John." Sherlock yelled back. "It's a twisted little game and obviously a threat towards Molly."

"Sherlock stop! This is not the way to ingratiate yourself to Molly."

"I don't give a damn about ingratiating myself to Molly. All I care about is her safety John. And I mean to protect her whether she wants my help or not." Sherlock yelled back as he turned the corner and ran ahead, shoving the doors to the morgue open.

"Molly I…." He sputtered and stopped when he took in the site in front of him.

Molly was standing in the middle of the morgue, her hands over her mouth as she stared in shock. All over the walls, her lab equipment, and gurneys, written in what closely resembled blood were the words **_Miss me Miss me Miss me_…**over and over again.

Sherlock quickly went to Molly and took hold of her arm turning her towards him. She was pale and trembling as she looked up at him. "I was just in here Sherlock…how could he have…how is this possible?"

"My God…"John said as he ran into the morgue and saw the walls. "Sherlock…what is going on?"

"John text Lestrade and tell him to come down here immediately."

* * *

Greg stared at the wall. He ran his hand over his face and through his hair before turning around and looking at Sherlock. "Alright what in the hell is this? How could he have possibly done this in the middle of the damn day and in the few minutes it took Molly to walk outside and walk back in?"

"I should think that would be obvious Lestrade, even for you." Sherlock said. "He's having her watched and it would not surprise me if there were a few employed by the hospital on his payroll. You might want to start questioning staff and looking into employee backgrounds."

Greg glared at him. "Yes I know how to do my job Sherlock!" He snapped. "Bloody bastard…" He mumbled walking away from Sherlock shaking his head.

"Lestrade…" Sherlock called after him.

Greg whirled around. "What?" he snapped.

"I meant that affectionately. You know that I'm no good with this kind of thing…having to worry over people close to me."

Greg was clearly taken aback. "I…well…you…it's alright then." He said uncomfortably and turned back.

Sherlock felt John move beside him. "Well Molly is obviously in grave danger. Lestrade will have to put men on her twenty four hours and day and…"

"That won't be necessary John. You and I will see to her protection. Now go and collect Molly so that we can go back to Baker Street. I need to consult my skull."

"Back to baker Street?" John said incredulously. "Ok first of all…I no longer live there. When I go, I'm going home to Mary, my wife…you do remember that I have a wife Sherlock."

Sherlock turned to regard him with an arched brow. John continued. "And secondly…and here's the thing…Molly is not going to want to go anywhere with you. In case you haven't noticed, she's not speaking to you."

"Don't be ridiculous John. She just spoke to me a moment ago."

"She was in shock Sherlock. You know, because of the words written in blood all over her morgue. That tends to put people in a state of shock."

"Just go and get her so we can go home." Sherlock snapped.

"She won't come Sherlock. That is the point I am trying to make." John snapped back.

"You are bigger than her." Sherlock said with a quirked lip.

"Oh hell no!" John said shaking his head. "If you want to be all high handed and Neanderthal and toss the woman over your shoulder, then it's going to be your shoulder and not mine!"

Sherlock smiled. "Just go and explain why this is necessary. She always seems to take things better from you."

"Yes that's because I understand how to communicate with other human beings." John sniffed. "Fine, I'll go talk to her, but she's not going to want to come with us."

John walked over to where Molly sat watching Greg and his men work. She looked up when she noticed him in front of her. "John, I just want to say thank you for staying here with me. It helps to have friendly faces with me."

"Sherlock is here also Molly."

Her smile fell into a frown. "This is a case John, of course he'd be here. Especially with Jim trying his hardest to get Sherlock's attention. I just wish he would've picked some place other than the lab and my morgue for his playground. I'm just glad that this is just a silly game between the two of them or I'd be even more scared."

John tilted his head and studied her a moment. "Molly…you do understand that this wasn't merely for Sherlock's sake. You _are_ in danger."

She blinked at him, clearly surprised at his words. "Why would Jim want to hurt me? I'm sure he was hoping Sherlock would be in the lab instead of me."

"He chased you through your lab today Molly, I think it's safe to say he was going to take you away if he had gotten ahold of you." John took her hand in his. "He would've hurt you Molly if he had the time. You are in danger."

"But why" She asked as the color drained from her face. "I…that makes no sense. What could he possibly want from me?"

"Well for one thing, you helped Sherlock when no one else could or would have. It's because of you Sherlock is alive and maybe Moriarty doesn't take to kindly to that." John sat down beside her still holding her hand. "And it wouldn't be the first time that he used someone Sherlock cared about against him."

"I just thought Jim meant to scare me…I didn't think he meant to really hurt me…"Molly said softly.

"And when you found Sherlock and I outside, Moriarty had already sent two taunting messages to Sherlock about you. We thought he had taken you Molly."

The more John talked, the more she realized how very close to untold danger she had been in the lab this morning. She felt dizzy and nauseas. "I think I'm going to vomit." She said suddenly, jumping up from the table and running over to a close by garbage can. She wretched loudly. "Oh God…" She gasped as she quickly sucked air into her lungs before vomiting again.

John jumped up and ran over to her, gathering her hair and holding it. Sherlock stood behind them awkwardly wanting to offer her some kind of comfort, but not sure what he should do. He also did not think she would accept comfort from him. He had to admit to himself that it hurt just a little seeing John know so quickly what to do.

"Molly, you need to come back to Baker Street with us." John said gently and handed her his handkerchief.

She took it and allowed herself for a few more steadying breaths before wiping her mouth. "No…I think I just need to get home. I think my nervous system has had all it can handle today." She said smiling weakly.

"Molls are you ready?" Greg asked. "We're pretty much done here and I can go ahead and give you a lift. But I was just thinking…do you have anyone you can stay with, at least for the night? You have had a rough go of it today."

"Of course she has someone she can stay with." Sherlock announced as he came to stand in between them. "And your lift won't be necessary Gavin."

John sighed. "It's Greg."

Sherlock clicked his tongue. "Right, Greg." He cleared his throat. "John and I shall see Molly home."

"No John and you will not being seeing me home." Molly said in a stronger voice.

"I am trying to keep you safe Molly, don't argue with me." He said.

"Who in the hell do you think you are? Keep me safe? I don't need you to keep me safe Sherlock." She bit out. "Come on Greg." She repeated walking passed Sherlock and John. She was halted by Sherlock's hand around her forearm. "Let me go Sherlock." She glared up at him.

Sherlock matched her expression and tone. "No."

John and Greg glanced at one another, shifting uncomfortably.

Molly smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Fine." She said and raised her hand in the blink of an eye to slap him. Sherlock however was quicker. Since she had already slapped him three times before, he had recently made a habit of watching her more closely, especially when she was angry. He grabbed her wrist mid slap.

"Molly I do not want to argue with you about this." Sherlock said. He leaned closer to her to where only she could hear him. "I don't know what I have done to make you so angry with me…I find it hard to believe it was because I had to take a pee test. But whatever it is does not matter at the moment. What matters to me is your safety. Now you will come with me and John. I don't care how you come…you can walk out or be carried out…I really couldn't care less, but you will come."

She glared up at him, her eyes hard and piercing. He swallowed hard thinking maybe he shouldn't have said the last bit, but she was being unreasonable.

When she didn't respond, he began to shift uncomfortably. Finally she spoke. "Alright Sherlock. I will go with you and John, now get your bloody hands off me."

* * *

"Do you want us to follow them and take her sir?"

Jim sat back in his chair and stared at the screen smiling. "No, that would be too easy and too boring. I'm sure he's been so lonely and lost without me. I know how greatly I have missed him. I think I'll have a bit of fun with him before I take her…give him a few puzzles to solve before the final game."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hugs!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Can I just tell you all how awesome, wonderful, and amazing you are? Well I'm going to tell you! YOU GUYS ROCK! Thanks so much for the support for this story!**

**This chapter is a bit emotionally charged. Sherlock and Molly have some things to hash out...**

* * *

"I'll just get my mobile." Molly said. "I left it in the lab." She turned and walked rather quickly from the lab with the three men staring after her.

"Are you sure you should be the one to give her a lift Sherlock?" Greg asked. "I mean it's obvious things are a bit off between you to. And she did just suffer a recent breakup."

"Yes with an inferior man whom she did not love and would've been miserable with. Not to mention that he resembled a gangly schoolboy instead of a grown man."

"Actually he looked like you." Greg said smiling.

"Wrong again. He dressed like me…wore a scarf, the same type jacket, and shoes, but physically we looked nothing a like except for both having dark hair." Sherlock corrected.

Greg sighed. "Well I still don't think it's a good…"

"Her mobile?" Sherlock interrupted.

"What?" John asked.

"She said she had to go her mobile in the lab, but when we first followed after her earlier she said her mobile was in the morgue." Sherlock said frowning. "The little sneak!" He snapped turning and running from the morgue.

"Well this relationship is anything but juvenile." John sighed rolling his eyes.

Greg laughed. "Good God is it a relationship? Hope we don't get caught in the cross fires."

John nodded. "Guess I better pop off after them to play mediator." He said before following Sherlock out. He found Sherlock standing in the middle of the lab looking very agitated. "Sherlock?"

"Why does she have to be so stubborn and obstinate? I'm trying to keep her safe and instead she acts like some silly little school girl and runs off." Sherlock shoved a nearby table sending its contents crashing to the floor. "Damn infuriating woman!"

"Where do you think she could've gone?"

"I know exactly where she is and she's a fool if she thinks I won't follow her." Sherlock snapped turning to leave, but stopping when John did not follow. "Are you coming?"

"No, I think I'll leave this to you. I'm heading home to Mary."

"Mary is not home John." Sherlock said.

"What do you mean she's not there? Where is she then?"

"Who do you think helped Molly make her quick escape?" Sherlock snapped. "This had better not become a habit of your Mary!"

* * *

"Thank you for coming to get me." Molly said.

"It was my pleasure." Mary said smiling. "Are you okay? I mean really okay? It had to have been a horrible shock to see Moriarty. John has told me how horrible he was…is."

"I was in a shock…and I was afraid. But it's still so unreal to me. I mean, I knew him as Jim. I worked with him, had dinner with him. He's even been to my flat and Toby loved him."

"Toby?" Mary asked.

"My cat." Molly said. "He adored Jim and Toby is usually a great judge of character…I mean he absolutely loathes Sherlock." She giggled. "Jim was so sweet and affectionate. It's still so hard for me to see him as he truly is…a cold blooded murderer and a vindictive, devious, completely bloody insane criminal mastermind."

Mary shuddered. "It makes my skin crawl to think that you were alone with that lunatic!"

Molly pulled her jacket tighter around her. "It makes my skin crawl too. When I saw him today, I didn't think, I just ran. But afterwards I thought about it and I wasn't so scared anymore. I mean, why should he want to hurt me. I actually felt silly for running from him. I thought he's only doing this to make a grand entrance for Sherlock. But then John told me that I was right to be afraid. He believes that Jim…Moriarty was there to kidnap me."

Mary nodded. "That makes sense. He's obsessed with Sherlock and you helped him to fake his own death and even hid him away. And from what John has told me, Moriarty was not aware of Sherlock's affection for you before, but maybe now he does realize how much Sherlock cares for you. That would make you an even more attractive target for a man like Moriarty."

Molly frowned. "Sherlock does not hold affections for me Mary. Not in that way. We are sometimes friends and coworkers, nothing more."

Mary smiled. "Is it fun in delusion land Molly?"

"Look I don't want to talk about Sherlock Holmes alright! I am tired, hungry, and bit freaked out, so can we just drive to my flat without causing me anymore stress and discomfort?"

Mary's smile widened. "You sling blarney better than any Irishman that I have ever met."

Molly groaned and sunk down into her seat staring straight ahead of her. Mary laughed. "Alright fine, no more talk of curly haired consulting detectives and their impossible cheekbones."

* * *

Molly put the key in the lock and turned. "You really didn't have to walk me to my door Mary. I'm alright."

"Well I did have an ulterior motive." Mary said as Molly opened the door and walked in. Mary followed after her. "I wanted to see my husband."

"See your husband?" Molly asked removing her coat and hanging her purse on the wall. "And you thought you would see him how?"

"Because he's in your living room with Sherlock." Mary said smiling and nodding in the direction.

Molly whirled around and came face to face with a very angry Sherlock. "How in the bloody hell did you get in here?" Molly snapped. "And how did you get her so fast?"

"I still have the key you gave me." Sherlock snapped. "And of course I would know a better way than you of getting here."

"I knew I should've changed those damn locks." Molly snapped back glaring. "Oh go away Sherlock! I've had a rotten day and having you here is certainly not going to make it all better."

"Maybe we should wait in the car John?"

"Oh God yes…that is the best idea I've heard all day." John said standing from the couch and moving to Mary.

"No you two can stay, you both are actually welcome. Sherlock can go wait in the car." Molly bit out still glaring at Sherlock.

"I am not going anywhere Molly." Sherlock said. "If you want to stay here in your own apartment, fine, but you will not stay alone."

"If you don't get out, I'll call the police." Molly threatened.

"Greg wouldn't touch this with a ten foot pole Molly." John said with an apologetic expression as Molly turned the full force of her glare on him.

Mary cleared her throat. "Um…yes…I think we'll just wait outside." She said grabbing John's hand and pulling him towards the door and into the hall.

Molly turned back to look at Sherlock. "Get out."

Sherlock favored her with a smug smile. "Make me."

She could feel her anger rising. Her entire body trembled with it as she clenched and unclenched her fists. She could feel the rush of blood to her head and knew her blood pressure was on the rise. She closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath. When she opened her eyes, she spoke lowly and calmly. "Sherlock, I am exhausted physically and emotionally. I am not able to deal with you at this moment. Now I am asking you, as a friend, if you ever were my friend, to please leave me alone."

"I am your friend Molly. That is why I am here." He said as his expression softened. "You are in danger from a sadistic and mentally unbalanced man. Moriarty is planning something and it pertains to you. He is going to try to take you Molly and he will not stop until he has gotten you. You need to understand that I am going to protect you, with or without your cooperation, but it would make things easier of you would stop fighting me at every turn. "

"And I appreciate your concern Sherlock. I appreciate that you want to help me, but exactly what are you proposing? That you spend every waking hour as my shadow? That is ridiculous Sherlock. You have cases and a life of your own. I have a full time job and a life of my own. I think the best way that you can help is to help Greg catch Jim."

"Don't call him that." Sherlock said through clenched teeth.

Molly's brow quirked. "That's his name Sherlock…Greg. Greg Lestrade if you'd bother to learn it and remember it."

"Not Lestrade…" He said taking a step towards her. "Moriarty…stop calling him Jim like he's familiar to you."

Molly's expression became confused. "That is how I know him Sherlock. What difference does it make what I call him?"

"It makes a difference to me." He hissed. "This wicked man took away two years of my life and threatened the people most dear to me." He took another step towards her and instinctually she stepped back.

Molly sighed deeply and nodded. "You're right Sherlock, I am sorry. I'll try not to call him that in front of you."

"I wasn't finished." He said taking another step towards her. "He is still a threat to those dearest to me and I am going to protect them…protect you, whether you want me to or not. I will help Lestrade, but that does not mean that I cannot keep you safe."

"Sherlock, I understand your concern, really I do…"

"And I never proposed to be your shadow Molly." Sherlock interrupted. "That won't be necessary once you move into Baker Street or if you prefer, we can stay here."

"You must be joking!" Molly said incredulously. "I am not going to live with you Sherlock and you cannot stay here."

"Why are you so angry with me?" He asked. "What could I have possibly done to make you behave so foolishly."

"Foolishly!" She snapped. "_I am foolish_? Are you bloody serious? Okay Sherlock, you want to know why I am so angry with you. Take a seat you're going to be here awhile." She said shoving him as hard as she could in his chest. He took a step back and she stormed passed him.

"Molly I did not mean to make you angrier. This is getting us nowhere. If you would just…"

She pointed to her sofa. "Sherlock sit the fuck down, shut up, and listen."

Sherlock clamped his mouth together, but did what she asked. He sat down and stared up at her. "I'm all ears Molly."

"Is it possible for you to speak without sarcasm?" She asked.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or yell at me more?" Sherlock snipped crossing his arms.

"Where to begin…that is the question. Ok let's start with your more recent relapse."

"Oh come on! I told everyone that was for a case and it was!" He snapped.

"Bull shite! You could've pretended to be high as a kite, not actually shoot up and become that way. You just used the case as an excuse for a momentary weakness. And instead of calling your best friend and communicating to him what was going on with you and how you felt, you just decide it would be bloody brilliant to fall back into old habits. So was it worth it Sherlock? Was getting fucked up one last time worth the pain you caused your friends and your brother?"

"It helps to quiet the voices down Molly…I just needed help the one time…that's all. I won't do it again, ever."

"Spoken like the true addict." She said. "And when you were confronted. When I begged you to say you were sorry for hurting John and your friend, you just couldn't stop yourself could you? You just had to throw something that was painful to me in my face in order to protect yourself. That's a coward's way out Sherlock. I was afraid for you and hurt for you and you couldn't even say sorry."

"I was happy that there was no ring." He said.

She laughed sarcastically. "Even now you can't say you're sorry!"

"But I'm not sorry that I said that. I was telling the truth. I am happy there is no ring on your hand."

She stared at him, her mind and her heart at war. What was he saying? What could he possibly mean? She swallowed down the hope, smothering it with her anger and pain. "No! I'm not going to let you do that to me. I am not the sniveling simpering woman I was before you left."

"You never were sniveling or simpering Molly." He said softly.

"Don't!" She said forcefully. "And let's not forget when you first got back and John was rightfully angry with you. What did you do? You called me and told me that you had something so important that you wanted to ask me and that I should come right away and when I get to your flat…I make a fool of myself by thinking you were going to ask me to dinner when all you wanted was a side kick for the day."

"Molly that's not…"

"I'm not finished Sherlock." She said cutting him off. "And at the end of the day, you ask me out again, why? I am sure you had already deduced that I was engaged and you knew I'd say no. Why would you do that Sherlock? Just to be cruel? To have a good laugh at pathetic Molly Hooper's expense? You knew how hard it was to be around you and even though I had moved on…I still had lingering feelings for you. And then here you come and offer to me on a silver platter what I had always wanted when you knew that I couldn't…how cruel can you be?"

Sherlock stared at her in shock. He had no idea that she would mistake his intentions so badly.

"And then I have to see you flaunting around with Janine…gorgeous, tall, perfect hair, perfect body Janine at the wedding. Walking down the bloody aisle with her perfect dress and her perfect body and it was just another reminder of what I could never have with Tom because I still, even after everything, loved you! So I knew then that I would have to let him go. It was wrong for me to keep him hanging on when I knew that I could never love him the way he deserved."

"Molly…" He tried again.

"I AM NOT FINSIHED!" She screamed at him thusly releasing the tears she had been holding at bay. "So what were the headlines of the papers a few days after you were shot? Why photos of you and your perfect girlfriend and a full page article on your relationship with her. Of course, now I know that you used her, which is cruel because I think for her part, she cared about you. But I found myself thinking, why couldn't he pretend with me. And then I realized how very pathetic that I was and how self-destructive that I would think so little of myself that I would be happy for whatever scraps of affection that you would toss my way, even to pretend that you had feelings for me."

She wiped at her eyes angrily. "And when you told me that he had gotten it all wrong…Jim had…that the one who he thought mattered the least mattered the most. When you first said that to me, I believed it was because I counted to you…that I actually mattered to you. But then I realized, you were being literal. I did matter the most to you at that particular moment because of what I did for you, not because of what I was to you. I mattered the most because without me, you could not have faked your death and taken down his network. That was the most painful realization of all…that I did matter, but no more than your computer or mobile or whatever else you could use to get what you needed at the moment."

She laughed again, but it was a humorless laugh. "And now you are suggesting that we live together? Spend hours upon hours together? Are you truly that heartless Sherlock?" She shook her head. "So no Sherlock, I will not be returning to Baker Street with you and you sure as hell will not be staying here. Now I would appreciate it if you would leave."

Sherlock stared at her a few moments with an unreadable expression before he stood. With a speed that Molly was not expecting Sherlock reached out and grabbed her arms jerking her towards him. She yelped in surprise. He turned her around and shoved her onto the sofa, leaning over her so that she had to lean back into the seat. He stared into her eyes with a smoldering intensity.

"Now it is my turn Molly Hooper. And you are going to sit there and listen to everything that I have to say. If you open your mouth to speak or try to move, it is highly likely you will find yourself flat of your back on this sofa with my hand covering your mouth, do you understand?"

Her eyes narrowed and she started to speak but he put his finger to her lips. "And I would tread carefully with my next words if I were you Molly. You have accused me of being little more than a cruel tyrant…do not provoke me into behaving that way. Now I will ask you again, do you understand?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good…then let us begin." He said.

* * *

**Next: Sherlock's turn to hash and Jim...what could he possibly be up to?**

**Hugs!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'd like to thank everyone who is reading this. I am still blown away by the repsonses I am getting with this fic. It means the world to me that you all enjoy what I write, it really does!**

**AN 1- Thanks to my new beta Miz Joely... I aprreciate your help, your corrections, and your speed, lol. I hope to have fixed everything that you suggested, but my dearest readers, if I missed anything, sorry...I'll pay closer attention next time :)**

**AN 2- As you have probably already guessed by reading this...it is not going to be an easy ride for Sherlock. I wanted to make this more realistic and I honetly don't believe that Molly would forgive him and just fall into his arms so easily now. She's stronger and more independent. I think he would have to prove his affections for her and I think it would be wise of her to move slowly and cautiously at first. **

**AN 3- This will not be an easy ride for Molly. Sherlock is going to struggle with what he is feeling and may not always get it right the first time. And Jim is only going to become more crazy...so more surprises and wild rides to come :)**

* * *

"To address your first point, as I have said over and over, it was for a case. I would never purposely want to do anything that would hurt John, Mrs. Hudson, you, or contrary to popular belief, my brother," Sherlock began. "And Janine…why would that even be an issue for you? I used her as a means to an end. She was nothing more to me than anyone I have used to get what I needed to solve a case."

"That is horrible Sherlock, to use her like that," Molly said softly.

Sherlock laughed. "Only you would be kind enough to consider someone else's feelings when you yourself were hurting. I can promise you, she would not give you the same consideration."

"Did you have sex with her?" Molly asked.

Sherlock looked taken aback by the question. "What?"

"Am I speaking a foreign language? Shall I repeat it slowly and more clearly so that you will understand? Did. You. Have. Sex. With. Her," she bit out.

"Yes." Sherlock stated simply. "Again, I used her for a case and that was an inevitable outcome. One cannot pretend to be in a relationship with someone and not have intimacy."

Molly shook her head. "I've heard enough, get out and don't come back."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "And I have told you that you will listen to me. You accused me of many things Molly and I have a right to defend myself. And you will listen."

She started to stand, but by the look he gave her, she thought better.

"Now to address your absurd and I do mean completely absurd insecurities," he began. "Janine is pretty, but in a manufactured way. The fake tan, the mountains of heavy makeup, and her hair wasn't even its natural color. Also, by the amount of plastic surgery she has had, one has to wonder if there was anything left on her body that actually belonged to her. That kind of pretty may appeal to pop culture, but it most certainly does not to me and I would wager, there are many, many others who feel as I do about the matter." He looked intently at her. "You on the other hand are something different entirely. I find you absolutely lovely. From your pale flawless skin, your warm deep set brown eyes, to your chestnut hair. I adore the smallness of your hands and your feet. I find the curve of your neck perfection as I do your perfect shell shaped ears."

Molly could feel herself flush and she became uncomfortable with his appraisal of her as well with the intensity within his eyes. She found it hard to sit still.

"And I know that I have said things that were hurtful to you in the past," he continued. "But you must realize that when I said your mouth was small, it was an observation, not an insult. Just because your lips are thinner does not mean that your mouth is not attractive." He paused and smiled. "I find your mouth extremely attractive Molly," he said in a husky voice.

"You said it was an improvement, remember?" she said. "That the lipstick was an improvement? Sounds like an insult to me."

"Because you feel inferior as a woman. I said the lipstick was an improvement because it gave you color, not because you were or are unattractive. I find you beautiful Molly Hooper. I always have."

"Are you finished?" she snapped.

"If you interrupt me once more Molly, you will not like the consequences. And you will know when I am finished," he warned.

"Don't you dare try to bully me in my own home. If you don't like hearing you own words said back to you, perhaps in the future you will be more mindful of what you say to people," she said, glaring daggers at him.

Sherlock's expression became dark and he took a step towards her when his mobile chirped in his pocket. He ignored it, but it chirped again.

Molly sighed. "You had better get that Sherlock, it might be Greg or John. Something might be wrong."

Sherlock stared at her with a hardened expression as he reached into his pocket and pulled his mobile free. He touched the screen and it lit up, illuminating the words that were written there.

_Is Molly being difficult Sherlock? Perhaps I can be of assistance and turn her to your way of thinking. What do you think? Shall I try Sherlock?_

Sherlock stared at his mobile. His mind began to race making deductions on what Moriarty could mean by this cryptic text. He looked up and quickly surveyed Molly's flat. He noted all points of entry. The front door, the large-paned window in her living room, the two smaller-paned windows in the living room, the medium-paned widow in her kitchen and the ones in her bedroom and bathroom.

A feeling of subtle malice and imminent danger washed over Sherlock. "Molly, we have to leave now."

"What?" she asked. "I already told you that…"

"And I don't give a damn what you told me, we are leaving now," Sherlock snapped, reaching down and grabbing her wrist. He had just jerked her to her feet when the glass to her front window was shattered as an arrow was shot through. It embedded itself within her wall and attached to it was a clear bottle with some form of liquid within it and a piece of cloth set ablaze. The fire from the cloth reached the liquid and the bottle exploded, igniting her carpet and curtains.

Within seconds several other arrows followed, further igniting the living room. Sherlock and Molly could hear the glass breaking in other rooms of her flat as it was set ablaze. Within moments, her entire flat was an inferno.

"Oh my God…" she whispered and began tugging frantically to free herself from Sherlock. "Toby!" she screamed as she clawed at his hand. He yelped and released her. She ran towards her bedroom door.

"Molly don't open the door!" Sherlock yelled over the roaring sound of the fire. "Stop! You'll be engulfed in flames!" he yelled, reaching her just as she put her hand on the door knob. He grabbed her arm, jerking her back roughly against him.

"TOBY!" she screamed again as she fought wildly against Sherlock's hold. "Let me go! TOBY!"

Sherlock began dragging Molly backward. The flames were becoming higher and spreading quickly. Smoke filled her flat to the point where it was almost impossible to see and nearly as impossible to breathe. Molly fought violently against him, screaming for her beloved pet.

The door to Molly's apartment was kicked open. "Sherlock! Molly!" John called. "Where are you?"

"We're…here…John…" Sherlock managed to gasp out between coughing fits. John covered his mouth and nose with his jacket and felt his way towards them. Upon reaching them, John grabbed Molly's other arm and together he and Sherlock dragged her from the burning flat. Once in the hallway, she turned on John and tried to bite his hand to free herself. "Toby is still in there, let me go!" she screamed.

Sherlock pulled her back against him and scooped her into his arms. He carried her down the hallway, following after John. The fire quickly spread into the hall and into the next flat.

"Shite!" John yelled. "What the hell happened?" he asked, kicking the door to the stairwell open.

"Moriarty…" Sherlock answered carrying the screaming and crying Molly into the stairwell and down the stairs. John followed closely behind. They could already here the fire trucks coming towards the burning building.

Other people began following after them down the stairwell as the flames grew higher and higher, eating their way through the walls and insulation.

Once outside, Sherlock and John could see the true damage from what Moriarty had done. The entire top of the building was a massive inferno, flames reaching high into the sky. Black smoke clouds rolled upward. People were screaming and glass was breaking. There were small gas explosions throughout the building that eventually made the fire so large, the building itself could barely be seen.

Fireman stormed past John, Sherlock, and the hysterical Molly with their water hoses, axes, and ladders. The street was littered with broken glass, destroyed pieces of burning building, and spectators. There were several small groups of people huddled together crying and watching the building burn as they lost everything that they owned in the world.

In the end, it would take the fire workers more than eight hours to put the entire fire out.

* * *

Sherlock and John watched the Molly as she slept soundly on the sofa back at Baker Street. John had forcefully sedated her and now she was oblivious to the loss she had incurred. Mrs. Hudson sat beside her stroking her hair. "Poor, dear girl," she said softly.

The door to Sherlock and John's flat was shoved open forcefully and an exhausted Lestrade entered. "He killed four people with that bloody fire!" Greg snapped coming to stand in front of Sherlock. "You get this bloody bastard Sherlock and this time,_ you_ put the bloody bullet in his head. I bet he won't come back from that!"

"At least it was only four, Greg…My God, it could have been so much worse."John said softly.

"Not only are there for people dead, but there are twenty-five families without any shelter, food, or clothing. They lost everything they bloody had," Greg snapped. "What is your brother going to do about all of this, Sherlock?"

"I have not spoken to Mycroft as of yet, but you can be certain that he is fully aware of everything that has transpired. I am sure that he will be in touch soon, Lestrade." Sherlock gingerly touched his arm. "Why don't you sit down…you look worn out…Mrs. Hudson, could you get Lestrade a cup of tea?"

Greg and John looked startled for a moment as they stared at Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson stood. "Oh yes of course, tea. We could all use some tea," she said, quickly going into the kitchen.

Greg sat down in John's chair and ran his hands over his face. "Thank you Sherlock…I am tired…damn tired." He looked over and saw Molly's still form. "How is she? I see you drugged her up good, John."

"Had too, she was a complete mess. Her cat was in the flat and she couldn't get to it," John said with a sigh.

"John?" Mary called as she entered the flat cautiously.

"Yes Mary, we're in here," he answered.

She came into the living area with her arms full of blankets and a couple of bags full of other things that Molly might need. She handed the bags over to John before walking over to the couch and sitting down. She leaned over Molly and touched her face gently. "Poor girl…why does he do this? What is this Moriarty's obsession with her?"

"He's obsessed with me," Sherlock said. "Unfortunately anyone who I care about might end up being a target. It would appear that he has chosen Molly to torment."

Mary looked back at Molly and shook her head. She placed the extra blanket that she had brought over her and stood, kissing her on her forehead before moving to stand by John.

The bell rang downstairs and Mrs. Hudson quickly left the kitchen to answer it.

"What are you going to do, Sherlock?" Mary asked.

"I haven't decided on a cause of action yet. I am still not certain of Moriarty's purpose in all of this," Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, dear," Mrs. Hudson said coming back into the flat with a delivery man following her. "The young man has brought this for you."

Sherlock looked at the man and at the medium sized box he held in his hands. "Who sent this?" Sherlock asked.

"No idea, it's just my job to deliver, now where do you want it?" the man asked.

"Sit it on the table," Sherlock said coming to look at the box. John thanked the man, tipped him, and he left.

"What do you think it is?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

Sherlock sighed. "Well I won't know until I open it, will I Mrs. Hudson. How is that tea coming along?"

"Oh!" she said and scurried back into the kitchen.

Sherlock had just reached out to touch the box when it moved.

"It moved!" John said.

"Yes John that did not escape my notice," Sherlock said, pulling a pocket knife from his pocket.

"Are those holes in the sides?" Mary asked as Sherlock cut away the tape that held the box together.

The box moved again and yowled. "Is that a bloody cat?" John asked incredulously.

Sherlock tore the rest of the tape away and opened the box. Inside of it was a rather large orange and white tabby with large green eyes. It yowled again and swiped at Sherlock.

"Toby…" Sherlock said softly. He turned the box over on its side and Toby jumped down from the table. Slowly the cat made his way around the living room, sniffing and exploring before making his way to the couch. He sniffed at the blanket, recognizing Molly's scent. He hopped onto the couch and snuggled down against her side, purring his contentment.

Sherlock noticed a card on the floor. He picked it up and looked at it_. _

_A little gift, Molly my love, to show that there are no hard feelings between us. Love always J.M._

Sherlock wadded the card up in his hands and tossed it in the garbage. His mobile chirped and vibrated on the table. He glanced at John and picked it up, looking at the screen.

_It seems I might ingratiate myself to our little pathologist by sparing her little fat cat. And no need to thank me for the fire which pushed her into your arms. That's what friends are for right, helping each other out. Enjoy her while you have her, Sherlock, because soon I will come for my share of the spoils._

Sherlock handed his mobile to John for him to read. He read it and looked up at Sherlock whispering, "So this bloody psychopath claims he burned everything she had in the world to drive her into your arms? Like he was doing you a favor?"

"Maybe in his own twisted mind he was doing me a favor. But look at the rest of the text John. He expects to be repaid."

"Why is he doing this? This makes no sense! Before he supposedly blew his brains out he was doing his best to ruin you and get you to kill yourself. Now he's playing more sick twisted games? Why?"

"Because he can John. Why does he do anything?" Sherlock answered.

"Are you going to tell her that Moriarty sent the cat?"

"Not if I don't have too, but she's a clever woman. She'll figure it out," Sherlock said watching Molly sleep and Toby purr and nuzzle.

"Seems to me if he was going to send her the cat, he'd kill it first. That seems more Moriarty's line," John said.

"Whatever the reason, at least she'll have some comfort now," Sherlock said, frowning as he attempted to keep his anger and gall at bay for the fact that Moriarty was the cause of both her distress and comfort at the moment.

* * *

**So Sherlock's conversation was cut short, but he is by NO means done with Ms. Hooper...stay tuned :)**

**Again, thanks for reading and show me some love :)**

**AN 4- And yes, I know that Janine and Sherlock did not do the nasty on the show, but for more drama and angst...which you all should know by now, I like to work with :), in this story, they did do the nasty...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys! I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine's Day and enjoyed remembering their love for family, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, pets, and whom ever else we all love :)**

**Thanks SO much for your reviews, follows, and favorites! This story is so fun to write and I love the different reactions and emotions that you all have for it!**

**Hope you enjoy this one! Thanks again!**

**THANKS TO MIZ JOELY!**

* * *

Sherlock sat quietly beside his bed watching Molly sleep. He had attempted to sit beside her on the mattress, but was met with angry, indigent, resistance from Toby who sat beside Molly's sleeping form, facing Sherlock and glaring.

"Stupid bloody cat," Sherlock whispered. "I saved her life you know."

Toby yawned and looked quite unimpressed. Sherlock's eyes narrowed as he looked at the cat. "I do care for her you know…very much…more than she realizes and more than I am comfortable admitting. But since you're just a big fat fluff ball, I don't suppose it matters what I say to you, does it?"

Toby cocked his head as if he were pondering what Sherlock had said. Sherlock sighed dramatically. "I know... you're right! I'm a grown man, I should be able to hold a conversation and discuss my bloody feelings with the people that I care about it." He leaned forward and looked intently at Toby. "She said some horrible things to me, you know. And I suppose that I did deserve some of them, but really why should she be concerned that I slept with that dreadful woman? I felt nothing for Janine. In fact, if you promise to keep silent, I'll let you in on a secret."

He scooted even closer to Toby who still wore a bored expression. "When I was with Janine…the only way that I could bring myself to touch her…to become even remotely aroused…I had to think of Molly…I imagined that it was Molly underneath me. That it was Molly sighing and calling my name. That it was doe like brown eyes looking up at me instead of pale blue ones. That it was Molly's small hands clinging to me as I moved above her…"

Toby yawned again and flopped over onto his side dramatically. Sherlock fell back against his chair just as dramatically. "Oh I know Toby…it's quite pathetic. I don't even understand what it is that I really feel for Molly. I've never really felt this way before and certainly never wanted to. I blame this all on John! If he hadn't come into my bloody life and chipped away at all of my logic, reason, deduction, and strategically placed walls with his bloody friendship and love, I could have just stayed a robot, like I am most comfortable with. But no…" he threw his hands in the air dramatically. "He had to humanize me! Damn him! And now I'm smitten or whatever the hell this is I am feeling with this silly slip of a woman."

Sherlock sighed. "Toby, what am I going to do? I don't want to care…I don't want to worry so over her. I don't want to get the tingles in my stomach whenever she walks into a room. And I was perfectly content in ignoring these things, hoping they would just go away. But then she had to go and get herself engaged to that ridiculous man…what was his name Jack…Joe…Tim…Tom…"

Toby flopped over onto his back and stared at Sherlock upside down.

"Yes Toby, I did feel as if my insides were turned upside down. When I saw that ring on her finger…I panicked…I didn't know what to do. I just assumed that she would always fall into my arms. How was I supposed to know she'd get so strong through all of this?"

Toby closed his eyes as he tried to fall asleep. A handsome kitty like him had to have his beauty rest after all.

"But Toby…" Sherlock began. One angry green eye popped open as Toby glared at him. "I had no idea that it would hurt her when I asked her to dinner. I knew she would say no, but I had hoped that just maybe her feelings for me were still strong enough to make her say yes. And I didn't really know what I was doing…it was desperation…I didn't want to lose her, but was unprepared to give her what she truly deserved. So I let her go…or I walked away rather, made the decision for us both and walked out of that foyer like a bloody yellow bellied coward."

Toby flopped back over on his side and stared at Sherlock.

"I know I should tell her this Toby, but she's so angry with me. And I have to admit I am a little angry with her," Sherlock sniffed.

Toby yowled and glared at Sherlock.

"I have every right to be angry with her," he sniffed again. "She's the one…" he paused when he heard Molly sigh softly in her sleep.

Molly rolled over to her side in her sleep and her arm came down on Toby. He meowed softly and nuzzled her hand. "Toby…" she whispered softly. "Oh my sweet boy…"

Toby meowed again and touched her hand with his fat paw trying to wake her. A single tear appeared from the side of her eye and her brow creased. "Toby…I'm so sorry Toby…"

Toby, seeming to become annoyed at his inability to wake her, slapped at her nose and meowed again. Molly slowly opened her eyes, her vision blurred by her heavy sleep and the narcotic John had given her. She blinked several times to attempt to clear her eyes.

"Toby…" Molly said groggily. "I must be dreaming…" she said, her voice trembling with emotion. But when Toby meowed and rubbed against her, she realized that it was no dream. She sat upright and grabbed him to her, hugging and kissing him. "My boy…" she cooed, "my sweet chubby boy…it is you…my precious boy…" she cried as tears filled her eyes.

"He was delivered here shortly after we returned to Baker Street," Sherlock said.

Upon hearing his voice the smile fell from her face. She clutched Toby to her chest and stared at Sherlock. "What are you doing in here?"

"It is my room Molly; I come and go as I please," Sherlock said with a raised brow.

"Then why am I in your room, Sherlock?" she snapped.

Sherlock was annoyed and quite tired of her nastiness towards him. He narrowed his eyes. "Because your flat got blown to bits, in case you don't remember," he snapped back.

She stared at him with unshed tears in her eyes. He sighed. "I am sorry Molly. I just…can we stop being so aggressive with one another and just speak to one another like normal human beings?"

She had to bite her tongue to keep from retorting to that statement. "What do you mean he was delivered, by whom? The fireman?"

He considered for only an instant lying to her, but knew she was too clever for that and she was not a child. "No, he came by delivery man…wrapped in a package."

Molly swallowed hard and looked down at Toby. "Jim sent him, didn't he?" she asked softly.

Sherlock inwardly cringed at the use of such a familiar name for Moriarty falling from Molly's lips. It was as if she could see his discomfort because she corrected herself. "I mean Moriarty…Moriarty sent him."

Sherlock nodded. "It would appear he came into your flat and removed Toby before the fire."

"Why is he doing this, Sherlock?" Molly asked, suddenly sounding very vulnerable.

"I can only assume it is because he realized his error," Sherlock replied as he rose to his feet.

"What error?" Molly asked with a creased brow.

"That you count…more than anyone else…and always have." He walked to the door. "I'll leave you to your reunion." He opened the door and started out, but paused. "And our conversation was interrupted, Molly. It is by no means over with." He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Is everything in place?" Jim asked.

"Yes sir. Everything will be ready for when Dr. Hooper returns to work," Claude said. "It's going to be a bloody mess sir…are you sure that you wouldn't prefer to do this someplace else?"

"No this is perfect the way it is Claude," Jim said. "Sherlock does enjoy subtlety, but he also enjoys a good show every once in a while. And I mean to give him one…one that he won't soon forget."

"But sir, the fire at the flat was quite the show," Claude argued gently, trying to persuade his employer's mind from such a destructive and devastating thing as he had planned this time.

"That Claude…that was nothing compared to what this will be. It will blow Sherlock's mind and dear sweet little Molly won't know what to do with herself. She's going to need a little TLC after this one, Claude."

"Can't we just take her and be done with this, sir?"

"Have you grown a conscience, Claude?" Jim asked.

"No sir…" Claude answered nervously.

"That is most gratifying to hear. There isn't room in my new organization for men with a conscience," Jim said. "If I ever find out that you have a heart, Claude, the consequences would be most dire for you."

* * *

Molly lay on the couch with a blanket over her legs. Toby sat in her lap and Mary sat at the end of the sofa, holding Molly's legs in her lap. "At least I didn't lose everything precious to me," Molly said stroking Toby. "My family photos, my grandmother's jewelry, and my father's cufflinks I keep in a lock box at the bank."

"I am so sorry, Molly," Mary began, shaking her head. "I am so sorry for you to have had to endure something like that. I am just so glad that Sherlock was there…that you weren't alone when it happened. You might have been killed."

Molly sighed. "Yes, I suppose he saved my life," she said softly. "And it was all stuff, Mary…just stuff…I can replace it all eventually. I am just so horrified to know that he killed four people and that so many others lost so much." She shook her head. "I shouldn't have run from him that day in the lab. I should've tried to talk to him, to ask him what he wanted…maybe I could have prevented some of this."

"No Molly, you would have been taken God only knows where," Sherlock said coming from the kitchen with a cup of tea for her. "And I would be searching for you right at this moment instead of looking at you safe and sound in my own living room."

"Sherlock I can't stay here…I won't stay here," Molly said.

"You can and you will," Sherlock responded, handing her the tea. "You have no other place to go that is safe enough…"

"I do have another place to go. My brother is…"

He interrupted her. "I said safe…keyword being safe. You do not have a safe place to go. You will stay here until Moriarty is taken care of, this time for good."

She narrowed her eyes. "You can't make me."

Sherlock smirked. "You think not?"

Molly's hands curled into fists at his smugness. His smile grew wider as he looked at her, challenging her to argue with him.

"Alright you two, that is enough," Mary snapped. "This is utterly ridiculous! You both have a common enemy here and you both are in danger from his madness. Molly, you need to stay someplace where you can have protection and people watching over you. From what I've heard of this Moriarty, he's not to be trifled with, and with the exception of Greg Lestrade, I doubt there are few officers within Scotland Yard that could handle such an adversary."

Sherlock looked at Mary and ginned. "Thank you, Mary."

"Oh shut up, Sherlock," she snapped. "You are a bloody git, you know that? After all that Molly has been through, she doesn't need any sarcasm or smirking from you, do you understand? If you expect her to stay here, then you need to behave like an adult." She turned to regard Molly. "Both of you do."

"Mary, I can't stay…" Molly began, but Mary held up her hand to silence her.

"Hush Molly, I wasn't finished," Mary said gently. "Until this nasty business is over and done with, John and I are moving in. Of course we will take the downstairs flat. It is a right mess, but with a bit of elbow grease, it could be a nice place. Besides, Sherlock will need John here and I have a feeling that you might need me, Molly dear."

Molly smiled and visibly relaxed. "You mean you'd stay here…with me? I wouldn't have to be alone with Sherlock?"

"Well you'll be alone with Sherlock quite a bit I should think…I said we'd take the downstairs flat, not move in here with you two. But yes, we will be here, John and I, to help buffer the situation should the need arise."

Molly smiled brightly. "Then I suppose it's bearable."

"I am so glad that you find it bearable to be in the same room as me now, Molly," Sherlock said with heavy sarcasm. "Because it was just so dreadful for you before."

"Shut it, you git!" Molly snapped.

Sherlock smirked and leaned towards her. "Make me, my sweet."

Mary sighed and rolled her eyes. Just what exactly had she gotten herself and John into? Not to mention the fact that she had no idea how John was going to take the news that they were moving. Perhaps she should have discussed it with him first. She shrugged. John would get over it soon enough, she supposed.

* * *

**Coming up: More shit hits the fan...that seems to be a common theme with Sherlock and Jim doesn't it? Boys will be boys I suppose.**

**Thanks for reading! Leave a review please :)**

**Hugs and love to all of you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I still have to be honest and say that I am overwhelmed at the repsonse of this story...I REALLY appreciate all of you so very much! I couldn't ask for a better group of ladies, (and fellas of there are any :) )seriously, you guys are awesome! It means so much to hear from all of you!**

**THANKS to my beta Miz Joely**

**WARNING THIS CHAPTER: There is a GRAPHIC violence within this chapter.**

* * *

"Oh dear," Mrs. Hudson began, twitching her hands nervously. "Sherlock is going to be very cross with you, dear."

"I can't sit here any longer, Mrs. Hudson. I'm losing my mind," Molly said, putting her coat on. "I know this puts you in an awkward position and I hope that he doesn't blame you for this, but I have got to get out of this flat. I've already told Mike that I would come in today."

"Well, if you're going to make an escape, you had better do it now because both Sherlock and John will be back soon."

Molly hugged Mrs. Hudson. "Thank you for understanding."

"Oh Molly please be careful. I am so afraid for you to leave the flat with that madman still on the loose."

"I'll be very careful Mrs. Hudson, I promise. Everything will be alright," Molly assured her gently. She let Mrs. Hudson go and walked out the door, quickly moving down the stairs.

* * *

"And where are you going?" Mary asked, startling Molly into dropping her bag.

"Oh, it's you," Molly said breathlessly. "Not funny Mary," she said, bending down to retrieve her purse. "And if you must know, I am going to work," she sniffed.

"I see," Mary said with a smirk. "And how long do you think it will take Sherlock to come and get you?"

"He's not my bloody keeper," Molly snapped. "I'm a grown woman and I have bills to pay. I'm going to work and he can go suck an egg!"

Mary laughed. "Oh yea, this is going to turn out well. But go ahead if you're so determined."

Molly frowned and crossed her arms. "Where are they, anyway?"

"I sent John to buy some paint for the flat and he managed to talk Sherlock into going with him," Mary said, smiling. "I would suggest you go ahead and leave if you're going to, they'll be back any moment."

"See you later," Molly said hurriedly, walking out the door.

Mary watched her go and shook her head. "Already like a married couple, these two."

* * *

Molly paid the taxi and watched it pull away. She turned and looked at St. Bart's and smiled. She missed being at work, even though it had only been two weeks since her flat burned. She desperately needed something to take her mind off things since living with Sherlock hadn't been easy. It was difficult to be so close to him and try to forget how she felt about him. She would catch him looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face and when she let him know she knew he was staring, he still didn't turn away. It unnerved her the way he looked at her. She saw something within his eyes that she wasn't ready to admit was there. She wanted to still be angry with him.

She took a deep breath and walked inside, instantly taking comfort with the hustle and bustle that would be found within a busy hospital.

"Molly," Malinda called to her excitedly as she approached. She threw her arms around Molly and hugged her. "I am so glad to see you and to know that you're okay!"

"Thanks, Malinda, I'm doing much better," Molly said, returning the hug. "I've missed you and missed being here very much."

"I tried to come visit you, but that obnoxious man wouldn't let me in the flat," Malinda said, rolling her eyes. "He said he would need to verify my credentials first."

Molly laughed, "Sherlock…he is impossible at times. But I'm back now so we can catch up. Let's grab some lunch and head to the lab."

Malinda nodded and the two of them walked arm in arm towards the cafeteria.

* * *

"What do you mean she's gone?" Sherlock asked.

"I mean she's not here, dear," Mrs. Hudson said without making eye contact.

Sherlock groaned. "Mrs. Hudson, I told you not to let her leave the bloody flat! Where did she go?"

"She just needed to step out for a bit Sherlock, surely you understand that. Who wants to be cooped up inside day in and day out?"

"Where did she go?" Sherlock repeated.

"She went into work, but just for a few hours. I really don't see what the fuss is all about."

John sighed and looked at Sherlock. "You're going to go and get her aren't you," John said, sounding resigned. "You do know that this will only make her angrier with you."

"And I have already said I don't give a tinker's damn if I make her mad or not. This is about her safety, John, and that is not to be compromised under any circumstances," Sherlock said, turning and walking towards the door. He paused and looked back. "Are you coming?"

John grinned. "You bet I am. I wouldn't miss the possibility of you being slapped again."

* * *

Molly and Malinda walked down the corridor towards the lab when Molly felt her mobile buzz in her lab coat as it rang. She rolled her eyes and ignored it.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Malinda asked.

"No, I already know who it is."

"But what if it's not him?" Malinda pointed out. "It could be important; what if it's Mike?"

Molly sighed. "You're right. Hang on, I'll get it," she said, pulling it from her pocket.

"I'll meet you in the lab," Malinda said, walking on ahead to give her some privacy.

"Hello," Molly said answering her mobile.

"Hullo love, did you miss daddy?" The saccharine sweet voice of Jim Moriarty purred through the phone.

Molly paled and stopped in her tracks. She found it difficult to swallow with the sudden onset of dryness within her throat.

"Are you there my love?" Jim asked. "I just wanted to call and give you a heads up. Things are about to get a bit…messy at the lab."

Molly found her voice. "What," she asked as a feeling of cold fear washed over her. She looked up just in time to see Malinda put her hand on the door knob.

"Oh and Molly, love," Jim began. "You might want to duck." The line went dead the moment Malinda turned the door knob and opened the door.

The explosion was deafening and the light blinding. Molly was thrown backward hard and slammed into the floor as were several others who had been passing by.

It took several moments for Molly to regain her bearings. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and everyone sounded very far away. She could hear and feel people screaming and moving past her, but as she shook her head trying to clear her mind of what was happening, she heard it.

She heard the blood-curdling screams of someone that was in horrendous pain. The sound of the screams made her blood run cold and her insides tremble. Molly pulled herself upright and looked back in the direction of the screams. Her eyes snapped open as they took in the horror of what she saw. It was in this moment that everything seemed to move even slower and as she moved, she felt as if she were moving in a dream.

Molly pulled herself from the floor and charged forward, ignoring the others who were screaming at her to stop, that it was too late. As she ran, she tore her coat from her body and slammed full force into the fireball that was screaming in agony.

She knocked Malinda to the floor, smothering the flames with her coat as she did so. Molly could feel her own skin beginning to burn and ache, but she ignored it, frantically beating at the flames that had engulfed her friend.

* * *

When Sherlock and John reached the hospital, they pushed through the crowds of spectators, injured people, emergency workers, and debris. The blast had been so powerful that it had knocked a large gaping hole in the side of the building that housed the lab. Wires and metal hung in clumps and electrical wires hissed and cackled.

There was so much smoke form the debris and fire that it was hard to see and breathe clearly. John surveyed his surroundings, "Sherlock…"

Sherlock didn't respond, just pushed further through the crowds and entered the hospital. John followed after him. "Where did the explosion come from?" John asked a passing nurse.

"Lab…" she said quickly as she rushed past him holding medical supplies.

Sherlock broke into a run as did John and within a minute they had reached what was left of the corridor that led down to the lab.

"Molly…" Sherlock said softly when he saw her sitting on the destroyed floor with her back against a large piece of wall that had been knocked to the floor. He and John rushed forward, climbing over the debris and wires to reach her. She sat on the floor surrounded by rubble holding a fair haired woman in her arms rocking her gently. As they got closer they heard Molly softly humming as tears rolled down her cheeks.

What was left of the other woman's silver blonde hair was matted with blood and her body was contorted in an odd way. John was instantly reminded of the many dead soldiers that he had seen on the battle fields.

"Molly," Sherlock called gently as he moved towards her. He and John both paused when they took in the rest of the body Molly held in her arms. The woman had been severely burned. Her clothes had been burned almost completely from her body.

Molly stopped humming and looked up at him. She had a deep gash on her forehead and the blood from the wound was intermixing with her tears. "Oh Sherlock, this is Malinda," she said softly. "She's my best friend. We grew up together and went to Medical school together."

Molly looked down at her and kissed her forehead. "Isn't she pretty Sherlock? I was always so jealous of her hair, "Molly giggled. "And she was always so jealous of mine. Aren't girls silly that way?"

Sherlock knelt down beside her as did John. "Oh hello John, I didn't see you," Molly said, smiling as the tears continued to fall. "I think Malinda has hurt herself, John. Can you fix her?"

John quickly appraised Malinda's body, noting that some parts of her body were burned worse than others. He saw the pooling of blood from her chest and abdomen. He knew the moment he saw her that there was nothing to be done for her. He was certain that she had either bled out or died from the shock, but either way, it had been a mercy.

"Molly, I think I should take her to a room if I'm to examine her," John said gently.

"Oh no, John, Malinda wants to stay here with me. She doesn't want to go anywhere…do you Malinda?" Molly asked with a trembling voice. "Oh please don't go Malinda…please…" She stroked Malinda's burned cheek and matted hair. "Isn't she pretty Sherlock? At school, every boy always wanted to date her." She looked back at Sherlock and John. "And she's just as lovely on the inside as out…"

"She's very pretty," Sherlock said gently. "But I think you should let John tend to her, Molly. This wound on her head is bad. She needs attention."

Molly's brow creased, "Oh…yes…of course you're right, Sherlock. You should tend to her, John."

John nodded and stood, bending down to lift Malinda's body into his arms. Sherlock took hold of Molly's hand. "Molly, you're hurt also. We need to get that gash looked at."

Molly frowned. "I need to clean up this mess first, Sherlock. Just look at this lab…it'll take me forever to get all of this straight. Mike is going to be so angry when he sees this."

Sherlock gently pulled her to her feet and when he did, he noticed another deep gash on her leg and that she had some minor burns on her hands and arms. He took one of her arms and turned it over to examine the damage. He looked back at Molly and her bottom lip trembled, "She was on fire Sherlock. I had to put it out…she was screaming and burning…why…why did he do this? How could he do this?"

He pulled her against him and held her as the dam broke. He held the slight, broken woman as her body was wracked with sobs and wails of anguish that nearly tore his heart in two.

* * *

**I know that was intense, but we are talking about Moriarty here and I do believe that he would do something like this without a second thought. **

**Anyways, thank you all again! Thanks for the follows, reviews, and favorites! Hugs and love!**

**Let me know your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

** No warnings for this one...**

**Thanks to all of you for reading this! Hugs and naked Benny's to all of you...and naked Jim's for those of you who aren't scared :)**

* * *

Sherlock sat quietly in the hospital room beside Molly's bed. She was sleeping deeply thanks in part to the medication she had been given for pain and shock. Every once in a while, she would whimper in her sleep and cry out for Malinda.

His mobile vibrated in his bel staff coat pocket. He pulled in out, already knowing who it would be.

_Once again I've driven her straight into your arms haven't' I Sherlock? Our girl is going to need you more than ever now. Really, there is no need to thank me. I don't suppose it would make any difference to Molly, but the death of her friend was not my intention. She was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Mishaps happen every once in a while and ever since you destroyed my network, I'm afraid I am having trouble finding good help these days. Rest assured the fool who put an explosive timer on the doorknob going into the lab will be punished. Take care of our little Molly and once again, enjoy the time you have with _

Sherlock stared hard at his mobile before throwing it across the room in anger and frustration. It smashed to pieces as it hit the wall and the floor.

"Sherlock," John called from the door. He motioned for Sherlock to follow him out in the hall. Sherlock stood and went to Molly, kissing her on the cheek before following John out.

"What John," Sherlock snapped. "I don't like to leave her."

"Sherlock you need to go home and get some rest. I will stay here with Molly. You're no good to her and anyone exhausted and an emotional wreck."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I am not emotional John. That is not a weakness that I ever indulge in."

John frowned. "Really? And I suppose smashing your mobile into a bits was just for kicks, not because your frustrated and angry or afraid for Molly then," he asked.

"Fine I am frustrated, but it is not impairing my ability at all," Sherlock argued.

"Oh ok…so frustration is not an emotion?"

"I AM NOT EMOTIONAL JOHN," Sherlock shouted angrily.

John cocked his head and looked at him with a raised brow as several people stared at the both of them as they passed them in the hall.

"I…"Sherlock paused at a loss for words.

"Sherlock you are a human being just like the rest of us. You get scared for the people that you love. You get angry when they are hurt and you get frustrated when things don't seem to be getting anywhere. You also need food and sleep. You cannot hope to stop Moriarty if you end up in the hospital bed beside Molly because you refuse to take care of yourself," John said gently.

Sherlock shook his head. "John, I…"

John raised his hand to cut him off. "No Sherlock, no arguments. For once in your life, _you will_ listen to me. If you don't want to go home, fine. But _you_ _will_ go to the cafeteria and get something to eat. Then you will come back to this room where there will be a cot waiting for you and _you will_ get some sleep or I swear to God_ I will_ sedate you."

Sherlock bowed his head in defeat. John squeezed his arm. "I'll stay with Molly, now go," he said walking into the room.

Sherlock stared at the door a few moments before doing as John said and making his way to the cafeteria.

* * *

Mary fidgeted nervously as she waited to be shown in. She felt tremendous guilt at not telling John where she was going and what she was doing, but she felt he would not understand. She also knew he would worry and she did not want him to be any more worried than he already was. This whole mess with Moriarty and Molly had set everyone on edge.

The receptionist hung up from her phone call and a buzzer rang out. She pressed a button and a male voice spoke over the intercom. "Show Mrs. Watson in please."

"Very good sir," she said standing and approaching Mary. "Mr. Holmes will see you now ma'am." She waited for Mary to stand before walking towards the office door. She opened the door and gestured for Mary to go in.

Once inside, Mycroft stood and extended his hand. "Ah Mary, how nice to see you. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Mary took his hand and shook it. "I think you know Mycroft why I am here."

Mycroft looked at Mary with a raised eyebrow. "You wish to offer your assistance?"

"If your people can find him Mycroft, I can take him out, for good," Mary said.

"Why not wait for Sherlock to find him?"

"Because Sherlock is not himself at the moment which you already know," she said.

"I see," Mycroft said smiling. "Have you have spoken to John about this?"

She shook her head. "You know he wouldn't want me involved in this, but this is not about what anyone wants. This is about stopping a madman from hurting anyone else."

"Mary, you have left that life behind you and I cannot in good conscious play a part in pulling you back in. I am afraid that I must respectfully decline your offer," Mycroft said as he entwined his fingers, resting his chin.

"This man is a sadistic psychopath who is a danger to all he comes in contact with. Because he has hurt Molly, he has hurt me. She is my friend and she is in danger. Sherlock is blinded by his affections for her and his fear for the safety of his friends. I am the perfect solution to this problem. Let me have him Mycroft, I can guarantee he will not come back from the dead this time."

"You are asking me to give my consent for a murder," he smiled. "Even I do not hold that much sway within the government."

"Bull shit. MI5 and MI6 have answered to you on many different occasions. I have done work for you myself years ago when I did a small job with MI6."

Mycroft sat back. "Blast you," he sighed. "I find this whole situation uncomfortable and appalling. I hold my brother responsible for this as it is entirely his fault."

"What are you talking about Mycroft," she asked.

"Sherlock," Mycroft snapped. "He had to go and embrace sentiment. He had to make friends and find himself ridiculously smitten over some sill female! And now by proxy of me be his brother, I have grown to have concern for the things he has concern for."

Mary smiled. "So you've turned into a teddy bear?"

"Confound you woman," Mycroft snapped. "I do not want to be involved in your scheming!" He glared at her as she smirked at him. He threw his hands in the air dramatically and sighed. "Alright, if we get to him first, then he's yours. But you must know that MI5 is already looking for him. I must also caution you to not mistake my brother. Just because he is experiencing feelings that are not expected of him does not mean that he is blinded by these feelings. I can assure you that he is out for blood Mary and should Sherlock get to Moriarty first, it would be wise if you stayed out of his way."

* * *

Sherlock had been asleep for nearly four hours when he stirred, hearing Molly call out to him. He opened his eyes and sat up quickly, nearly falling out of the cot that was barely big enough for him. He shook his head, trying to clear the cob web feeling he had in his eyes.

"Sherlock…"Molly called weakly.

He stood and moved quickly to her bed. "Yes Molly?"

"I had the most terrible dream…that Jim had done something to the lab…a lot of people were hurt."

Sherlock took her small hand in his. "I am so sorry Molly, but it wasn't a dream."

"Oh…" she cried softly, "Oh Malinda…she's gone Sherlock…it's my fault…I wanted to go to the lab…"

"No Molly…" Sherlock began, but she cut him off.

"I should've listened to you instead of arguing with you…I should've stayed at Baker Street…" she moaned through her tears.

"Moriarty would have blown that place to bits regardless Molly. None of this is your fault, do you hear me?"

"I should go away…so he can't hurt anyone else," she said trying to turn towards him. "Have Mycroft send me away…where no one can find me…Jim will stop then…he won't hurt anyone else."

Sherlock shook his head. "Nothing would stop him Molly because he is a cruel, sadistic, sick man. Sending you away would not change that. And if we sent you away, it would be to protect you from him, not because you are the cause of anything he does," he said stroking her hair gently.

Molly began to cry earnestly. "I want to go home Sherlock, back to Baker Street with you. I don't want to stay here at St. Bart's…please…it's too painful."

"You have to stay a little while longer and then I will bring you back with me," Sherlock reassured her gently. "You were hurt Molly. You had a serious concussion and you have burns."

Molly reached out for him, clutching at his sleeves. "Please don't leave me alone…don't leave me Sherlock."

Sherlock gathered her to him gently, mindful of the second and third degree burns on her arms. He held her against him, stroking her hair, while placing kisses on top of her head. "It's alright Molly, I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you alone, not ever…"

* * *

Jim sat back in his chair and watched the display in front of him from his lap top screen. He smiled. "Oh Sherlock, you should never make promises that you can't keep. Of course you'll leave her…I'll make sure of that and when you do…she's all mine."

"Sir…"

Jim turned and looked at the man who had entered his study. "What is it Mack?"

"Everything is ready, as you ordered."

Jim grinned. "Excellent, it's always nice when things go according to plan isn't it Mack," Jim asked.

"Yes sir," Mack said nervously.

Jim's expression changed. His smile widened, but his eyes stayed hard and cold. "If there is another mishap like there was at the lab…I will personally pour the gasoline on you and strike the match, do you understand Mack?"

Mack trembled slightly and swallowed hard. "Yes sir."

* * *

**Jim just never stops does he? I can't help it...it appears that for this story he has become my muse and what Jim wants...Jim gets...so more mayhem and mischief is on the way...**

**So this one was not as emotional as the last one. I thought I'd give everyone a break with the angst...**

**Let me know your thoughts and as always, thanks for reading! Love you all!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi guys! So sorry it's been awhile, but I took a break from this to write a couple more light hearted stories. I'm back now to this one! I hope you all enjoy this!**

**Huge Thanks to my beta Miz Joely...such a lovely lady :)**

**Huge thanks to everyone for reading this! I really appreciate all of you so much!**

**Warnings: Jim is naughty...very naughty :)**

* * *

Jim sat back in his leather chair enjoying a glass of his most expensive aged scotch. He smiled as he looked over the sheet of paper in his hands. So many people, so many mishaps, and so little time, he mused to himself. He was rather proud of Mack and his ability to dig so deeply into Molly's past. This list of names was as thorough as if he'd researched it himself.

Mack had proven to be the only one of all his new hires that amounted to a damn. He frowned. "Damn you Sherlock," he huffed in annoyance. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find good help these days? Did you have to dismantle my entire network? It's not like I can post a help wanted advertisement in my life of work…blast you and your curly head!"

Jim sighed and downed his scotch, sitting the glass on the table beside him. He sat up straighter in his seat and peered shrewdly at the list. "Now which one of you to start with…hmmm?" he asked himself out loud. "Which would mean more to Molly? An old boyfriend? An old professor? A family member? A beloved pet?" He shook his head. "Nope, Toby is off limits. Even I won't go there…"

Jim clicked his tongue and nodded. "An old boyfriend it is…let's see here…my goodness what a good little girl you are Molly, only two serious boyfriends and a few casual dates…" he said in an Irish lilt. "Now who do I begin with? Mark or Richard…I suppose I'll close my eyes and point…"he said shutting his eyes, before popping them open again. "MACK!" he shouted.

The door to the study opened and Mack walked in. "Sir?" he asked.

"Mark or Richard?" Jim asked with a thoughtful expression.

"I'm sorry, what?" Mack asked.

Jim sighed in annoyance. "I said, Mark or Richard, pick one," he said. "And do so quickly before I lose my patience with you."

Mack swallowed hard. He knew whichever name he chose, he was condemning this man to a horrible death, but he cared more for the safety of his own family, so he chose. "Richard," he said softly.

"Excellent choice," Jim said excitedly, rubbing his hands together. "Now be a good little dear and bring this Richard home to daddy," he said plopping back down in his chair. He picked up the remote from the coffee table and clicked it. The large screen which hung over his desk popped on. "Isn't she lovely, Mack?" Jim asked wistfully as he watched Molly sleep. He watched as Sherlock entered the room with an overnight bag in his hands. He sat the bag down and went to Molly, kissing her temple.

"So it appears that Sherlock is getting prepared to take Molly home with him," Jim said. "How thoughtful of him to see to her needs."

Mack looked at the screen and watched the detective with the slight, brown haired woman. He could feel the lump in his throat as he remembered his own daughter; she was about Molly's age and also small and delicate in stature. If it weren't for the safety of his own daughter and his wife, he might actually consider letting Moriarty kill him, just so he could be done with his sadistic sick games.

"She is lovely, isn't she Mack?" Jim asked, sighing contentedly.

"Yes, she is," Mack agreed.

"And she's all mine," Jim purred. "Now run along and do what daddy says…bring me Richard…"

* * *

"You don't have to do this Sherlock," Molly said weakly. "I could stay with my brother…oh…no I couldn't, Jim might hurt him."

Sherlock held Molly around her waist with one arm while she held onto his other hand as they walked down the hospital corridor. "I know that I don't have to Molly, but I want too…"Sherlock said before pausing. "No, not only do I want to, but I also have too. You're my pathologist…my Molly…you're mine to protect."

Molly stopped and looked up at him. "Sherlock please don't say things like that," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. "It just makes this harder….when you say things like that, it hurts…"

"Why should it hurt," he asked softly, pulling her on gently. "Why should it hurt you or be hard in you if it's true. And it is…it's my truth."

"Sherlock, please…"

"Hush Molly, I'm taking you home with me back to Baker Street and I am going to take care of you," he said. "If you're not ready to accept my truth, then so be it, but that does not change the fact that you are my pathologist…you always have been, even when I was too blind to see it."

Molly was quiet the rest of the way back to Baker Street and she was quiet as he helped her inside. Mary was waiting for them and took Molly into the bedroom to help her dress for bed. She sat Molly down on the edge of the bed and helped her to unbutton her blouse, being very mindful of her burns as she pulled the garment from her body. When Mary saw the bandages, her eyes watered. "Oh Molly…I am so sorry…" she said through her tears. "Are you in much pain?"

Molly gave her a small smile. "Not too much, Mary," she said. "I have been given some wonderful medication and everyone is being so gentle with me."

Mary nodded, swallowing down her emotions, and grabbed the cotton nightgown from the dresser drawer. "Can you lift your arms?" she asked.

Molly held her arms up as high as she could and Mary slid the gown over her body. She helped Molly to stand as she unzipped her skirt and helped Molly to step out of it.

"Mary…Sherlock says…" she faltered, as she felt her cheeks warm.

Mary smiled knowingly. "What does he say, Molly?" she asked.

"That I'm his…" she looked down, blushing. "His pathologist and his to protect…" She forced herself to look back into Mary's face. "He said that it's his truth…"

"And I'm sure that is his truth Molly," she said, pressing Molly gently back down on the mattress. She knelt down in front of her and began to take the right shoe from her foot. "I would imagine that it's always been his truth, but recent events have made it even more real to him. He can no longer deny his heart, even if he wanted too."

Molly sighed as she knitted her brows together. "He feels like he owes me…" she said. "He might even feel guilty, as if this were somehow his fault, which is ridiculous."

Mary tossed the shoe to the side before grasping her other ankle and pulling the shoe from her foot. "So what if he does feel grateful to you. He should, he owes you his life Molly. He could never have done the things he did to bring down Moriarty's web or survive that fall without you. And maybe he does feel a bit guilty. Moriarty only seems to target those that Sherlock really cares for," she said. "But Molly," she said standing. "That does not mean that he is incapable of feeling anything else towards you. If he says that you are his pathologist, I have to believe that he is telling the truth. He knows his own heart better than anyone else, who am I to claim there is no merit to his feelings? And who are you to, just because of your own insecurities?"

Mary turned Molly gently on the mattress and pressed her shoulders back gently. She moved to pillow under Molly's head to a more comfortable position. "You need to rest Molly," she said gently, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Mary…" Molly said, grasping her hand to stop her from leaving. "Why now? Why is he saying this now? There is a lot of pain and grief in our past together…he's been cruel and so very cold…and I…I've allowed myself to be his doormat. Sometimes I wonder how he could even respect me."

Mary sat down on the edge of the bed. "These are questions you should be asking him because as I have said, only Sherlock knows his own heart and mind," she said. "But I can give you my opinion. In the time I have spent getting to know Sherlock; I have seen a man who is terrified of vulnerability. He has a brilliant mind and holds science and logic in high esteem. I know he has looked down on emotions and sentiment with disdain in the past and I know that his friendship with John has challenged that."

Mary scooted closer to Molly and took her hand. "Sherlock had always viewed sentiment as a weakness and then John came into his life. John, who is a soldier, a brave and courageous man, a fiercely loyal man, and a man who loves with his whole heart. So now Sherlock is faced with idea that perhaps he might have been wrong. Can a man both allow himself to love without weakening his mind or his reserves?"

Mary turned Molly's hand over in her own and gently traced circles on her palm. "And that's not to say that Sherlock never loved before John, we both know that is not true. He adores Mrs. Hudson and his parents. He even loves his brother, but whereas those particular people in his life never required that Sherlock show his love outwardly, John expects it because he, himself does. So now, Sherlock feels that he has had to overcome the challenge of allowing himself to openly love without weakening himself with vulnerability or weakening his scientific mind. It is a logical fear for a man such as Sherlock."

Mary looked at Molly and saw the creases on her brow. "Molly, do you understand what I am trying to say?" she asked.

Molly nodded. "I think so. You're saying love, for a man like Sherlock, would be something to be feared by his logical and concrete mind," she said.

Mary nodded. "Yes, it makes him uncomfortable and even more awkward that he already is. It probably even makes him angry, because he doesn't want to feel these things. He doesn't like the idea of losing control or being responsible for someone else's happiness. He wants to follow his own plans, he doesn't want to bother with someone else's needs. And to him, love makes one have to do these things," she said. "But love is a funny thing. It doesn't like to be ignored, even by someone as logical as Sherlock. So it sits in his heart and bides its time. It wouldn't surprise me if love has its own room in his mind palace and I would be willing to bet, that the room is decorated all in Molly Hooper."

Molly gasped and flushed. Mary squeezed her hand. "And sometimes love has to use what it can to stop being ignored and Jim Moriarty has given love all the ingredients that it needed to make an anxiety ridden, love struck, Sherlock Holmes. You say Sherlock feels guilty or like he owes you and I say, okay, I can buy that. But there's more to it Molly and you are trying to trivialize something because you're afraid to be hurt by Sherlock, which is understandable. He has been an awful bastard to you in the past. He has purposely tried to push you away and has successfully done so to a point, because now he's ready and you're scared to death."

"What does Jim have to do with it?" Molly asked, yawning.

"Everything Molly," Mary said. "He tried to take you from Sherlock and now Sherlock knows cold fear. He understands what it means to nearly lose the one thing he can't live without, but always thought would be there. Jim has inadvertently forced Sherlock to face his truth…that you are _his pathologist_…_his Molly_, his to protect and his to love."

"Oh," Molly said, yawning again. Mary leaned down and kissed her temple, stroking her cheek gently.

"Sleep now Molly," she said, but Molly had already closed her eyes. Mary smiled and stood, walking quietly from the room. When she closed the door and turned around, she jumped, startled. "Sherlock," she fussed.

"Thank you Mary," he said softly. "For helping Molly to understand…for helping me to understand what I feel."

Mary frowned. "You shouldn't eavesdrop, Sherlock, that's very childish," she said.

"I am a child," he said.

She grinned. "Yes you are sometimes," she said. "You're welcome."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. When he stood back, his expression became more serious. "My brother called," he said.

Mary's face fell and she swallowed. "Did he indeed?" she asked.

"Yes he did," he said. "And he informed me of the most interesting conversation that he had with you, Mary."

Mary licked her lips nervously. "Sherlock…I just want to help. I can help and I…I haven't told John…"

Sherlock smiled. "Neither have I," he said. "And I won't, if you let this drop. Moriarty is not like any villain that you have come in contact with Mary. Please…let me handle him."

Before she could answer there was a knock at the door and Mrs. Hudson came in. "This was left for you at the door, dear," she said handing Sherlock the package. "I didn't know if it would be important so I thought I should bring it to you immediately."

"Yes Mrs. Hudson thank you," he said. "Don't let the door hit you as you leave."

Mrs. Hudson ignored him and continued talking. "So how is Molly, dear?" she asked Mary.

Sherlock began to open the package only vaguely aware of Mary and Mrs. Hudson speaking in the background. He pulled the DVD from the case and looked at it. It was unmarked, as was the package. His mobile vibrated on the coffee table and he moved to pick it up as he continued to study the DVD. He looked at his phone.

_Did you get my package, Sherlock, love? It would probably be wise to put Molly to bed now, unless you have already done so as this might upset her. And we wouldn't want to upset out little Molly now would we? She has suffered so much as of late. Oh and Sherlock, dear, you should probably turn down the volume on this…what with neighbors and all…XXOO JM_

Sherlock turned and looked at Mary. "Would you go and get John?" he asked. "Tell him I need him now please."

Mary looked at Sherlock and from the expression on his face she knew who the DVD was from. "Mrs. Hudson, would you mind coming and having tea with me while the boys do whatever it is they're going to do?" she asked, putting her arm around the elderly woman. She ushered her out of the flat and down the stairs. About a minute later, John was in the flat coming towards Sherlock.

"What is it?" John asked. "What's happened?"

Sherlock put the DVD into the player and pressed play. He picked up the remote and turned the sound down. The screen flashed and on the screen was a large room, all white with white carpets. In the middle of the room there was a man, bound and gagged, hanging from the ceiling. His arms were stretched high above his head and he was naked.

In front of the man was a clear, plastic box that had air holes. Inside the box was a small animal, Sherlock wasn't sure what kind it was, as it was so small. There was a clear plastic door blocking the animal from moving to the side that was closest to the man.

John stood up and moved to the television. "Sherlock…I think that's his…in the box, it's his…"  
"It is," Sherlock said coming to stand beside John.

"Oh God…" John said in horror.

The plastic box had been shoved right up against the man's groin, his penis was poking through a hole in the side of the box. The animal trapped on the other side had no food or water and it was clawing at the sides, trying to find its way out.

The door opened into the room and Jim walked in smiling towards the camera. Sherlock turned the sound up and waited. "Allow me to introduce you to Richard Parker," Jim began. "He was Molly's boyfriend at University. He was the first man to put his filthy cock inside of her lovely vagina. If not for this man, our Molly would probably still be pure, Sherlock. Doesn't that make you angry?"

Jim moved to stand behind Richard. "I know it makes me angry. How dare he think he could sully her with his disgusting seed? Molly was made for only two men Sherlock, you know this. She was made for you and I…it should have been one of us to make her a woman. But we can't be angry with her. She was just a sweet innocent in this. He lied and seduced her…he is the one to blame and he is the one to be punished," he said, pulling a knife from his pocket.

Richard cried out when Jim sliced the skin along his back, dragging the knife along his flesh, and stopping at his side. The animal immediately smelled the blood and began to claw at the door even more aggressively.

"I'm sure you know what I have planned for this disgusting violator…but I thought I'd make it fun," he said. "I do know how much you love our games, Sherlock."

Jim cut along the man's chest, dragging the knife down his abdomen. Richard strained against his bonds and screamed in agony through his gag. "You have 48 hours Sherlock, 48 hours to find Richard and save him. Our little furry friend is going to be ravenous by then and if you don't get to Richard first, it is going to make a meal out of this piece of filth's disgusting little cock," he said.

"He's insane…" John whispered, in shock.

Jim threw his head back and laughed maniacal. "Remember, 48 hours starting," he looked at his watch. "Oh my, I'm afraid that I may have sent this to you later than I had meant too. You now have 12 hours. Good luck Sherlock."

* * *

**So here you go ladies! I hope you enjoyed this...I gotta tell you, writing evil Jim is fun!**

**So let me know your thoughts! Hugs and much love!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi ladies and gents! Here's the next chapter! Thanks to all of you!**

**Warnings: None, shockingly so :)**

* * *

Sherlock came home exhausted. Moriarty had outdone himself this time with false trails and leads. He had less than a half hour to find Richard and he knew that he would be unsuccessfully. This man, Richard, would die a horrible death. It made Sherlock sick to his stomach as he dragged himself inside and knew that John was probably already sprawled out on the couch in 221 C.

Sherlock pulled his coat off and hung it on the wall before stepping into the living room. He paused when he saw Molly standing in the middle of the living room. She wore an almost sheer white gown that was floor length and her hair hung in soft waves down her back. He looked down and saw that she was barefoot. "Molly," he said, coming further into the room.

She turned to look at him, her face in obvious distress and shock. She was pale and trembling. "I was bored," she said softly. "Tired of being cooped up in your room. I came in here to watch a movie. I saw one was already in the player…" her voice trailed as she turned back to the television. Sherlock followed her gaze with his own.

His expression tightened and he moved quickly in front of her, blocking her view and shutting the television off. "I'm sorry, Molly," he said. "You weren't meant to see that."

"Is that real?" she asked him with a trembling voice. "Is that Richard?"

Sherlock looked down and nodded. "I've been searching for him none stop for the past eleven hours," he said. "I'm sorry Molly…"

"It's not your fault," she said. "It's mine…he's going to kill everyone isn't he….everyone that means anything to me. No one who knows me is safe. I've already lost Malinda."

"This is not your fault, Molly, don't you dare say that," he demanded.

"But it is, Sherlock, can't you see?" she asked. Her eyes were far away and seemed clouded. "I've got to go away. It's the only way he'll stop. I can't live with this…knowing that he's doing all of this because of me. Sherlock…I can't…it's too painful. I need to go now." She turned suddenly and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door.

Sherlock followed after her and reached the door just as the lock clicked. He could hear her sobbing inside the room as she moved about. "Molly, open the door," he said firmly, knocking.

She did not answer him. He could hear more noise and more moving about. He knocked harder. "Molly, please open the door. Let's talk about this," he said. "This is not your doing. He would do these things anyways, regardless of who it was."

Still she ignored him. He pounded harder on the door, so hard the door hinges creaked. "Open the door now, Molly."

"Please go away," she said and suddenly there was no more noise coming from the room. His heart pounded in his throat and he stepped back. He kicked out at the door, knocking it open with the force of the blow.

He quickly scoured the room and saw nothing, but heard something in the bathroom. He went to the door and she had locked that as well. He wasted no time forcing it open. He saw her legs as she kicked out, trying to maneuver herself out of his bathroom window.

He quickly grabbed her ankles and pulled her back in. She kicked out, trying to shake his hold. "Let me go, Sherlock," she screamed. "Everyone I know is in danger! I have to get away to save you all."

He said nothing as he grasped her around her waist and pulled her forcefully back inside. She turned in his arms, trying to fight him. He maneuvered her over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom, depositing her on the bed.

When she tried to scramble away from him, he was ready, straddling her and pinned her wrists down. "Get off me," she screamed. "Please! Sherlock I can't bear another death…please…"

He said nothing to her as she squirmed and kicked out. He knew she would soon tire herself out as she was still weak from her injuries and what she had suffered emotionally. She collapsed against the mattress, her face pink and glistening with sweat from her effort. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and her gown clung to her body. Sherlock had to force himself to keep his eyes on her face.

Tears filled her eyes and she began to cry helplessly. Sherlock let go of her wrists and lifted his leg over her. He lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

"Why won't you let me go?" she sobbed. Her arms were trapped against his chest and she balled his shirt in her fists. "I have to go away…it's the only way…"

"Shh…" he soothed, gently running his hand through her hair. "Molly…I am so sorry that this is happening, but you cannot blame yourself. Even if you left, he would still hurt other people and he would hunt you down and hurt you. I can't let you go, not ever. I have to protect you."

Sherlock looked over Molly's head as John came into the room. "I heard a crashing noise," John said, looking down at the destroyed door.

"John, can you get Molly a sedative?" Sherlock asked. John nodded and disappeared back through the hole where the door once stood.

"No!" Molly screamed, renewing her struggles. "I don't want to sleep…I dream the most terrible dreams…I can hear the screams at the hospital…everything is burning…Malinda is burning…please…don't…"

Sherlock held her tightly, talking softly to her, trying to comfort and calm her. John returned soon with a hypo. He came into the room and sat down on the other side of the bed.

"No!" Molly screamed again when she felt the dip in the bed. "Please don't…"

"Molly," John said gently. "You won't dream, I swear. You won't even know that you are in the world."

Sherlock tightened his hold on her even as he turned her onto her back. He held her down while John took hold of her arm. She tried to wrench herself free from John, but he was too strong. He injected her quickly with the sedative and let go of her arm.

She struck out, trying to get free of Sherlock's hold on her. He grabbed the free arm and pinned it against her body. He watched as she fought to remain awake as her struggles slowed. He loosened his hold on her and she relaxed in his arms.

"Sher…" she said, her words slurring. "Sherlock…don't leave me alone…pl…please…Sher…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Molly," he said softly. "Sleep…go deep into your mind where nothing can harm you." He kissed her temple as her eyes closed.

John leaned back against the headboard and sighed. "John?"

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"How long will it take Richard to bleed out?" Sherlock asked. "How long will he suffer?"

John shook his head. "Not long," he said. "He will bleed out quickly. The pain will be great at first, but it won't last. He will go into shock and his heart will stop."

Sherlock pulled Molly against him as if she were his own stuffed bear. He buried his head in her hair. "What if he does this again, John?" Sherlock asked miserably. "What if I fail again and someone else dies?"

"We'll get him," John said, turning his head to look at him. "You know we will, we always do."

"She can't take much more," Sherlock said. "He's going to break Molly."

"He won't break her, Sherlock," John said. "Molly is one of the strongest people that I know. And she has friends who love her and support her. You'd be surprised what that can mean to someone."

"No I wouldn't," Sherlock said. "I have you, John. I know what it means. You have pulled me through some dark times."

"And you will help Molly through this dark time," John said. "She has your love and strength to carry her, if she has not strength of her own in the end.

Sherlock swallowed hard. "Do you think Richard dead?"

"Sherlock, why are you doing this?" John asked. "Why are you allowing yourself to feel this? You have said before that it does the person no good and clouds the mind. Why are you letting this eat at you? You can't let Moriarty do this to you. It is horrific what has happened to Richard and it is terrible that we could not spare him from it. But we did the best we could and when the time comes to help someone else, we will."

"This has changed me John," Sherlock said. "When I thought he had taken her….I have never known cold fear like that before. I've never had to feel what it would be like to lose someone that I loved so much that it took my breath away. Don't misunderstand me John, I was nearly sick when you were taken and put in that bon fire…and it would have killed me had you been hurt, but this…it's different."

John nodded. "It always is with the woman that you love, Sherlock," he said. "Men have this instinct to protect our women from all harm…we get angry and frustrated when we can't. We get angry and scared when they cry because we feel helpless. We want to take away all of their pain and be a balm to them, but sometimes it just doesn't work out that way. There are always going to be car wrecks or plane crashes or freak accidents or loved ones dying…"

"And maniacs…" Sherlock said softly.

"Yes and we can't protect them from the world, can we?" John asked. "We can try to do all that we can and nothing more. Sometimes we will be successful and sometimes we won't be. But we can be consistently there and strong for them. We can give them our love and strength to lean on."

Sherlock pulled Molly even closer to him, putting his leg over her. "I can't help but wonder if the fear I felt when I thought Molly had been taken is the fear that Richard's wife feels right now…knowing her husband is missing and in the hands of a madman," he said. "I hope he's gone, John…I hope that it is over for him. I hope he doesn't suffer…that Moriarty didn't do more to him."

John scooted down the bed and lay flat of his back, staring at the ceiling. "We will get Moriarty, Sherlock," he said softly. "You can't stop believing that. We will get him and this time, we will crush him."

* * *

"Cut him down," Jim said with a look of disgust on his face.

Mack reached up and cut the ropes of the dead man. Richard's lifeless body fell to the floor. He looked down at the man with such pity. Richard's screams had been blood curdling, nearly making Mack vomit with the horror of what he knew was happening to the man. But his death had come swiftly. He went into shock as he bled out fairly quickly.

"Clean up this mess," Jim said, sneering down at the dead man. "I am disappointed in Sherlock." He turned to leave Mack with Richard, but paused. "Ah well, everyone deserves an off day, even a genius detective I suppose. I'm sure he'll do better next time. I wonder who I should take this time…perhaps Molly's little niece. She is a cute little thing…"

"Not a child, you bloody psychopath," Mack shouted, unable to keep his emotions at bay any longer.

Jim stared at him for several moments in silence before tossing his head back to laugh. "Good heavens Mack," Jim said. "What do you take me for? Of course I won't kill her niece; she's only seven years old for Christ's sake." Jim snorted and shook his head. "I said, who should I take next, not kill next. Good God, Mack, calm you delicate nerves. Daddy's not completely heartless…"

Mack swallowed hard, but said nothing. Jim smiled. "Relax Mack," he said. "I'm only sending you to bring the little girl here. She's going to stay with Uncle Jim for a while, that's all. And then once you do that, you can go get daddy another toy. This time you can bring me Mark."

Mack watched as Jim turned and left the room. When he was alone in the room, he dropped to his knees and covered Richard's body with a sheet. "I am so sorry, son…"he whispered. "I didn't have a choice…if I don't help him…he'll hurt my daughter…" Mack's voice broke with a sob. "I'm sorry…" he choked out, his body shuddering as he sobbed openly.

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**So I decided to spare you a graphic death scene...I'm a nice girl...although my muse, who seems to take the form of Jim, is glaring at me for being soft. I told him the improtance of imagination :)**

**Hope you all liked this chapter and I thank you all for reading! I appreciate all of you! Hugs!**


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